


So Here We Stand

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Gen, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Berlin Wall is down. East Germany is no more, and while thousands are rejoicing their reunions with loved ones, three nations are mourning the loss of one of their own. Hungary's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Here We Stand

  
_"So Here We Stand"_ [  
](1030847#plainTextLink)  


  


_  
_So here we stand,

side by side.

Amongst the oblivion of a fallen wall.

My head is seeping regret..

Punctured by shards of memories

whose edges gave not yet been 

dulled by Time.

 

So here we stand, 

I meet your eyes.

They're singing a melody.

A soft, sad, sweet thing 

I heard a thousand years ago.

So here we stand,

with rain on our backs and 

a lonely question on our lips:

 

"Why him?"

 

Finally, you speak,

as there we stand,

your piano weathered fingers,

clasping around a pale hand

that is no longer there.

 

You say:

 

"He's gone."

 

The words drop to the ground with a 

heavy thump.

Neither of us willing to acknowledge 

Them.

They nip at anyone stupid enough to 

try to clear Them away.

 

So here we stand.

The grave is empty.

Our kind don't leave bodies.

The grave is quiet.

The grave is wrong.

He was never quiet.

 

There I stand,

a small yellow bird

with no happy notes left

perches on my shoulder.

You lean over and kiss my cheek.

I'm sure it's too salty for your taste right now.

You've always liked sweet things, like cakes.

 

He'd always steal them from you.

 

Remember?

 

A blonde man with

stress lines too deep for his age,

folds his face into an image 

of resolute, grey sadness

and comes foward to loop an old black cross

around the offensive headstone.

 

"Rest in peace," he whispers.

I hate those words.

 

So here we stand.

Prussia is gone.

He is dead.

Pushed and cramped to oblivion.

 

And my dumb head

won't stop bleeding memories.

 

The rain picks up

and muddies the ground.

Fancy black dress be damned.

 

And I'm crying.

The rain falls on my tipped back head.

And after a while, I can't even tell

which is which anymore.

 

So here we stand.

Saying one last goodbye.

And I can't help but imagine

that wherever he is,

he's disgusted 

with how un-awesome

 

we're all acting.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> First fic, thank you for reading.  
> I hope the emotion came out the way I wanted it to...  
> Originally posted on fanfiction.net under the name Prussian Red.


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